Consequences
by Cressida Isolde
Summary: She accomplished no great deeds, history will not remember her. But sometimes, all a hero needs is someone to talk to. Spoilers are practically inevitable.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: All things in this story are copyrighted to Bethesda and the Elder Scrolls series, including characters, locations, a fair amount of dialogue, and anything else I may have missed.

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Finna kept two letters in the chest at the foot of her sleeping pallet. One was on thick, cream-coloured paper, folded carefully into thirds and sealed with a blob of red wax. It had once been impressed with the seal of a dragon, with angular wings and a slender, curving neck, but frequent openings and closings and re-readings meant that most of the wax had broken off, leaving just the lower points of the wings and the zigzag of the drake's tail. The paper was starting to curl at the edges, and there were tears at the corners along which it had been folded. It read:

_For the hand of Finna Claudius,_

_You have been brought to my attention as an example amongst your peers of duty, piety, and scholarship. To discuss your future, I invite you to bring this letter to the Elder Council Chambers between the hours of eight and twelve, Morndas to Fredas, before the end of Evening Star. I do request that you are careful about who you share the contents of this letter with._

_Regards,_

_G. Bellienus  
Personal Secretary to the Emperor._

The strange combination of brevity and frank yet effusive praise from such an important person had stunned her.

_The Emperor knows who I am! _She thought with a thrill of excitement, but quashed it just as fast. _Of course he doesn't know about every single one of his subjects. Even if they are examples of duty, piety, and scholarship. _

She had taken the letter along to the palace, still re-reading and trying to work out the clauses.

_Duty. What on earth could this be? _

_Piety. Observing the holidays, it must be, and visiting the temple, and volunteering at the festivals?_

_Scholarship? At least this makes sense; my mother's spent enough flagging down every teacher that passes through the city... _

Glabrio Bellienus was an Imperial. He had dark eyes, and dark hair streaked with grey, although he looked too young for it. Although he rose from his desk to greet her, he still had to look up to meet her eyes.

"Ah, Finna Claudius." He shook her hand firmly. "Thank you for coming. Do you know why you're here?"

She shook her head, mutely.

"Well, we would like to make you an offer. You have finished your schooling, yes?" She nodded, but he had continued speaking already. "Have you any plans for a career?"

"I was, um, thinking about joining the Guard. In Leyawiin, I think, they seem to have a more relaxed attitude to women joining their ranks."

He nodded, "good, good," opened his desk, and took out a folder, which he laid on the desk in front of him. It made a thud. Finna stared – it was almost as thick as her wrist, which wasn't delicate and slender by any means – and had the words "Finna Claudius" handwritten neatly in the top right corner. He opened it to the first page, and she tried to crane her neck to see what was written on it unobtrusively. He caught her look of amazement, and smiled gently.

"Yes, we necessarily investigate candidates in quite some detail. I hope you aren't offended."

Throat too dry to speak, she shook her head.

"Good." He glanced at the first page. "Finna Claudius, eldest daughter of Nera Claudius and Grignr the Strong, no other last name recorded and current location unknown, yes?"

What followed was more-or-less an exhaustive overhaul of her _entire life_.

He had gone over her records in almost minute detail. Finna had been shocked by how far back they went. "Ah, this incident is particularly telling," he said, smiling indulgently, of an event that happened when she was _six_, "It seems that you not only broke up a fight, but healed the loser _and_ struck the young man who had started it. Unusual sense of justice in one so young."

Finna turned bright red. "I- uh, it wasn't quite like that, I, uh, I apologised later," she finished lamely.

How could she dare to tell him that she had only taken the losers cause up with such great vigour because the bully had been teasing her about her height and gangly legs? She wondered if he had that on a note somewhere too, but he was consulting the folder again.

"It seems your mother put a lot of effort into your education."

Bellienus was good at these sorts of questions, Finna noted, leaving them as sort of neutral statements that left you unsure as how to answer them.

"Y-yes, she got me the best teachers she could. I tried not to disappoint her."

"No, you've done very well for yourself," he said.

He had asked her other vague statement-questions, about going to the temples, volunteering, if she'd been in trouble before, and she'd answered the best she could, her eyes never straying far from the gigantic folder lying on the desk.

Finally, and suddenly, he'd finished. "You have the characteristics that we look for in those we entrust most with the Empire," Glabrio Bellienus had said. "We would like you to join the Blades."

It had been the one sentence Finna had hoped to hear her entire life, and from that moment on she was in a daze.

He had given her a letter to give to the Grand Master at Weynon Priory, with instructions to send her to Cloud Ruler Temple for weapons training and to be initiated fully into the Order as an apprentice. She took it in trembling fingers, trying to stammer her thanks, but Bellienus had just smiled kindly.

"Don't let us down," he had said.

Finna wouldn't have dreamed of it.

The other letter Finna didn't read so much.

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Author's note: Please, please, criticise the hell out of this. I'm trying to teach myself to write again, and it's hard without feedback.


	2. Chapter 1: Beginnings

Her first week at Cloud Ruler Temple was largely uneventful; learning how the place was run, visiting the nearby city of Bruma, and beginning training with the katana. The second week, however, was greeted with the news that the Emperor had been assassinated, there was a portal to Oblivion open, and the last hope of the Empire rested upon one man, a mysterious member of the public, and no one knew his name.

The Hero and the Heir arrived late one night in the new year, covered in soot and ash and dust. The call to assemble came as Finna was finishing up her exercises, fortunately in full armour already, and she planted her sword point-first in the grass practice area – which earned her a _very_ disapproving look from Achille – and fell into formation with the rest of the Blades, then took a half-step back in respect to her own inferior rank. She could still feel Achille's eyes on her, and tried not to shiver.

The two men who ascended the stone steps before her were both Imperials – the Hero, walking protectively in front of the future emperor, was tall and golden-haired, wearing a set of iron armour, with the glint of determination in his blue eyes. The Heir, following, was dark-haired and hollow-eyed, seemingly overwhelmed.

_Unsurprising, really, _Finna thought as she watched the gates swing closed, _he has the weight of an entire Empire resting upon him…_

The Grand Master Jauffre introduced him.

"Blades," he began, "dark times are upon us. The Emperor and his sons were slain on our watch, the Empire is in Chaos.But there is yet hope. Here is Martin Septim, true son of Uriel Septim!"

The rest of the Blades, as one, drew their swords and lifted them to the sky. "Hail, Martin Septim!"

Finna reached for the hilt of her blade. Nothing was there. Mortified, she turned to see her katana, still ignobly planted point-down in the grass. She looked longingly at it, and glanced sideways in what she hoped was a covert manner at the new Emperor to see if he noticed. He was looking at her.

_Damn it, _she thought, _and I just draw more attention by being out of line, too. _She closed her eyes as Martin cleared his throat.

"Jauffre," he seemed uncertain as he began to speak, and initially looked only at Grand Master Jauffre and the man that had rescued him from Kvatch. "All of you, I know you expect me to be emperor, and I'll do my best." He looked around, hesitantly. "But," he paused, "this is all new to me. I am not used to giving speeches, but... I-I wanted you to know that I appreciate your welcome here. I... hope I prove myself worthy of your loyalty in the coming days. That's it," he finished, rather uncomfortably. "Thank you."

As the Blades began to disperse, Finna stepped back to retrieve her blade, sure her face must be burning pink. She jumped when a hand fell on her shoulder.

"You'll want to use oil to get the dirt off that before it rusts," said Achille, not unkindly.

"Thanks," she whispered.

The warmth of the fire in the armoury and the sweet smell of the oil she was rubbing into the steel of the katana in small, circular, _hypnotic_ strokes was starting to make Finna's eyes close, and she had just lain the sword on the ground for a moment and let her eyes drift shut when the door swung open. The gust of cold air startled her into alertness, and she looked up to see none other than the Hero of Kvatch.

"Uh, h-hello," she stuttered, hurriedly trying to stand up and give some sort of salute.

He smiled, wryly.  
"Don't bother," he said, "I'm a Blade now, same as you." He looked at her for a moment. "How long have you been an initiate?"

Finna smiled wryly. _Tactful._

"Coming up on two weeks now," she said. "I guess it shows."

"Not at all," he smiled. "Look, I came to pick up some armour. Maybe you could help me?"

"Of course."

She turned away as he shed his iron armour and dropped it in a corner with a clang, but sneaked a sideways glance at him, eyes lingering on the way his muscles moved in the light from the fire.

"Can you help me with the cuirass?" He asked without turning, hefting its weight in one hand. "I can never get the fastenings done up properly."

She frowned slightly, but walked over and stood behind him, helped him into the armour and made sure it sat properly.

"You're good at this."

Finna laughed. "Hardly. Jena took pity on me after she noticed I was walking around half-crippled from having the weight sit on my shoulders rather than hips." She felt her face flush with embarrassment at the memory, and angrily tried to will it to go back to normal, glad that he couldn't see her.

He laughed, quietly. "Well, a quick learner, then."

Her brows drew together again, ever so slightly, and she stepped back. "Anything else I can help you with?" she asked, guardedly. _He's being awfully friendly, what does he want?_

He caught her meaning, and for the first time seemed off-balance, his eyes wide. "Oh no, no, I didn't mean- that is, well," he paused, trying to collect himself, then sighed, grinning.

"All right. I admit I did come down here with an... ulterior... motive, but we seem to have gotten confused along the way."

He risked a glance at Finna, who was looking suspicious and confused, but at least no longer seemed to be edging towards her sword.

"It's about Martin," he said.

"The emperor?"

"Yes. Look," he said, "that's the problem. You all see him as the emperor-"

"Which he is," said Finna, bemused.

"Yes. But," he paused. "He's- he's not used to the idea yet, I think. He's not used to being treated like he's better than everyone else, or that he's someone special-" he broke off. "I just- I think it would be a good idea for you to make an effort to make him feel... normal, while he's here. He doesn't know I'm asking."

Finna nodded slowly, then smiled. "It's good of you to be looking out for him. I'll try."

He relaxed slightly. "Thank you. Uh, if you don't mind me asking, are you part Imperial?"

Finna grinned mirthlessly. "Half. It's why I don't tower over you."   
It was true. She only just cleared six foot tall – short, for a Nord – and as such only had to look up a couple of inches to meet his gaze. As she was staring into those blue eyes, a thought struck her.

"How did you get tasked with bringing the Heir to Cloud Ruler Temple, anyway? If you weren't one of the Blades already..."

He levelled a long, measured look at her. "I'll tell you some other time." With that, he turned away. "I need to get some rest now, anyway, I'm leaving for the Imperial City first thing in the morning."

"Already?" she asked, surprised. "You've had a long trip, and-"

"It's a matter of vital importance, I have been assured." He paused at the door to look over his shoulder. "Goodnight, Finna." And the door closed with a click behind him.

It wasn't until the next day that she realised she hadn't told him her name.


End file.
